


Just a house, not a home

by Ilrona



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Artist Kylo Ren, But a lot of fun too, F/M, It's hard to write the point of view of four characters, M/M, Rey is adopted by the Organa-Solo family here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-07-24 09:11:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7502604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilrona/pseuds/Ilrona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In one apartment live Rey, hopeful but uncertain about her future, and Ben, an artist who struggles with the painting that should, as suggested by his mentor, depict the death of his father. In the other apartment live Finn, a paramedic who finds it hard to deal with the deaths of his patients, and Hux, a high school math teacher who really hates his job.</p><p>When the person they live with can’t help them with their problems, they find out that getting to know their next-door neighbor may be the solution instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the lyrics of ‘Glass, Concrete & Stone’ by David Byrne.

Rey loves this big wonderful city. Compared to the orphanage in that dusty village that had one convenience store with its mean owner, or to her adoptive family’s summer house later, this is a cornucopia of opportunity and possibility. Rey has no idea what to do yet, there are too many careers she's interested in, too many possible futures. She’s absolutely overwhelmed by such breathtaking abundance, but one day - hopefully soon - she will figure it out. She has to.

However, when it comes to running, the city is not the best. She wakes up early, glad that during the summer the sun doesn’t spend so much time hiding its light from the world. The air is not too hot yet, and there are less people to run into, less cars to worry about. It’s quieter, the sounds of traffic not an eardrum-shattering cacophony. The concrete under her feet is not ideal, but at least after the first ten minutes she reaches a street full of trees, fat green leaves waving at her in greeting as she takes a deep breath from the air filled with the lovely scent of flowers.

Still in the apartment, she ties her scruffy running shoes and pulls her hair into a tight but still comfortable ponytail. Ben is snoring on the sofa, which is too small for his huge body: his feet dangle off, his dark hair falls onto the armrest. Rey curses quietly when she steps into a little puddle of red paint, annoyed even though she knows these shoes already look like the survivors of several apocalypses. Curious, though not expecting anything nice, she walks to the easel.

It’s, as always, a painting with a dark background and lots of blood. Kylo Ren’s artistic niche is gory and brutal murders and not much else. The red wound this time is on the chest, but the canvas is empty where the face should be. There are several sketches on the table near the easel, and the floor is littered with many more crumpled up balls of paper. She glances at one of the sketches, and her heart stops.

Rey blinks, hoping that maybe it’s the remaining sleep still stuck in her eyes that makes her see things, but no. Six sketches depict Han with different expressions – shock, fear, fear, shock, fear, sadness.

Rey swallows down the bile that wants to climb into her mouth. One day, she will be living on her own, or perhaps with a nice boyfriend, which would be even better, and she won’t have to deal with this shit anymore.

Rey leaves the apartment in a sour mood. She runs into the cute next-door neighbor on the staircase between the second and the third floors. He looks terribly exhausted.

“Hey,” Rey greets him. They don’t really know each other, but they always say hello when they meet, and he has a beautiful smile.

He isn’t smiling now, though. He glances at Rey, and his eyes are so full of grief her heart clenches painfully in her chest.

“Hello.”

It’s the least enthusiastic greeting she has ever heard from him. Something terrible must have happened to him. She wants to do something to make him feel better. But they are not friends. Still, she doesn’t want to leave yet, not when he looks so sad. Maybe she should ask how he is, but it’s obvious he’s not okay.

She doesn’t even know his name – or, wait, maybe she does?

“Are you Armitage Hux?”

He grimaces. At least he doesn’t look so heartbreakingly despondent anymore.

“Because that’s the only name on your mailbox, though I know there’s that other guy too. Why isn’t your name on it?”

“Hux owns the place, I just rent half of it because he needs the money. He said there’s no point changing the mailbox, and it’s impossible to argue with him. I have an e-mail address and a mobile if someone wants to message me, so it’s not that bad…”

That sounds rather unfair, Rey thinks. “But you have a name, right? It would be nice if I knew what to call you.”

The cute neighbor smiles, not as brightly as he usually does, but it’s not a fake smile. “Finn.”

“Finn, nice to meet you,” Rey grins. “I’m Rey.”

“I know,” Finn nods. Rey must look surprised, because he quickly adds: “I looked at your mailbox, too. You’re living with a Ben, right? You have the same surname. Are you siblings?”

“Yes, though I’m adopted.”

The conversation stops after that, and the silence quickly becomes awkward. Rey is desperately searching for something to say. She wants to ask him to do something with her. They could hang out. Go somewhere together. Not now, but later. Get to know each other.

Suddenly Finn yawns, raising a hand to hide his mouth. There’s something so vulnerable about it that Rey wants to just… take care of him for a little bit, make him feel better somehow. But Finn looks like he’s ready to fall down any moment, and Rey feels bad holding him up.

“Take care, Finn,” Rey says. Finn gives her a quick smile and continues his way up the stairs.

Rey sighs, then adjusts her ponytail. They will run into each other again soon. If not, Rey could, maybe, knock on his door.

* * *

The elevator door is almost completely closed when the big battered combat boot appears, forcing it to open again. Hux sighs in exasperation. Organa-Solo walks into the elevator, making the already small place feel awfully crowded. He has four, no, five bulging grocery bags in his hands. He doesn’t put them down, like a normal person would, instead continues to keep them in his hands. Like he's gloating about how strong he is.

“Aren’t you hot?”

Hux looks down at himself. It’s true that the sweater vest and long-sleeved dress shirt is not the most comfortable outfit in these sweltering days, but for him fashion has never been about what is comfortable.

Organa-Solo is wearing a sleeveless grey shirt, which possibly used to be white until the day it was accidentally thrown into the washing machine filled with black things. Organa-Solo’s arms are bare: Hux can see dark moles and rather impressive muscles. There are splashes of paint on the shirt, mostly red and black but there’s also a bit of yellow near the right nipple. The nipple which can be seen through the very thin fabric. Hux feels his mouth start to fall open before he quickly presses his lips together, tearing his eyes away.

“I like wearing clothes that convey to my students an aura of stern authority. They are really hard to deal with, especially now at the end of the school year. A correct appearance helps, even if just a little bit.”

Organa-Solo laughs meanly. Hux hates the visceral attraction he feels for this terrible stranger in this moment.

“Or maybe it’s not that your students are awful, it’s just that your teaching methods are questionable.”

“You don’t know anything about my teaching methods!” This is just what he needs at the end of such a horrible day! Though he feels like every day is horrible nowadays. “Do you even have a real job, or do you just throw paint at a canvas all day?”

Hux hasn’t actually seen any of his paintings yet, but he has seen him with an easel under his arm several times, so he must be an artist, or maybe he hopes to become an artist one day. Hux once tried to look Ben Organa-Solo up online, but he couldn’t find any useful information, so either he is an absolute unknown or he has a pseudonym.

Luckily they reach their floor before Organa-Solo could say something infuriating again. He’s closer to the door, but he gestures with his head for Hux to leave first. It’s either another way to mock him, or a clumsy attempt at apologizing. Hux leaves the elevator, and walks straight to his door without another word or even a glance back. Of course, because the two Organa-Solos live in the apartment next to his, the other man follows him.

“See you later, professor.” Hux doesn’t return the goodbye, doesn’t look up as he turns the key. He closes the door perhaps a bit more roughly than is absolutely necessary.

Once inside, he takes his shoes off and washes his hands in the bathroom, then walks into the kitchen. He’s surprised to see Finn sitting there, eating a croissant. Crumbs and some of the apricot filling almost fall onto the tablecloth. Hux grabs a plate and puts it in front of Finn.

“How many times do I have to tell you to not do this?”

“I would have cleaned it up.”

Hux doesn’t doubt that. Finn is diligent and not at all messy, and always pays the rent in time – he’s a good person to live with. But they are very far from friends, and Hux has no intention of getting to know him better. He doesn't make Hux feel any less lonely, but it could be a lot worse.

“Organa-Solo is the worst.” Hux, fuming, opens the fridge. The freezing air that rushes out feels so good.

“That’s not true!” Finn exclaims, with such vehemence that Hux turns around in surprise. He didn’t know Finn holds Organa-Solo in such high regard. “I mean, I don’t know her well, but she seems like a very nice person.” Suddenly there’s a sappy look on Finn’s face that is very close to infatuation.

Hux turns back to the fridge, not interested in the silly crushes of young people. He grabs the strawberry ice cream box and pushes a spoonful into his mouth.

“Rough day?” Finn asks.

They don’t usually discuss things with each other. But maybe complaining after such a horrible day would make Hux feel better.

“There’s this girl, the best in mathematics in the whole class. I thought she would go on studying it at the university too. But today I found out she wants to own a restaurant instead. The one person who seemed to be both interested in and capable of understanding my lessons wants a fucking restaurant! What is the point of teaching these fucking kids for so many years if not one of them will do anything with the knowledge I try to beat into their heads after they leave high school?”

“Well,” Finn starts carefully, patting the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “I understand that it can be disheartening when you try your best and the students don’t seem to care about your lessons. But I think you shouldn’t forget that it’s not your future, and you shouldn’t be mad at your students for not doing what you want them to do with their own life, which in the end you don’t have any say in.”

Now Hux remembers why they don’t spend a lot of time talking.

He puts the ice cream box back into the fridge, not bothering to say anything to Finn.

Hux glances at Finn. Finn looks somewhat better, now, than he did two days ago. Someone must have died again. Hux has no idea why Finn is a paramedic when he looks like the whole world is ending every time some random stranger dies in the ruins of a car or in the ambulance van. It’s ridiculous. They can’t pay him well, otherwise he would be able to afford a place of his own and wouldn’t have to be living with Hux. But maybe Finn likes his job, no matter how stressful it is. It’s possible that there exist people in the universe who enjoy the job they have.

Hux shouldn’t have listened to his father. About how amazing it is to be a teacher, the most fulfilling job in the world, all the bright-eyed kids, helping the new generation find their way, blah blah blah – it’s nothing but lies. Hux wouldn’t shed a single tear if the whole school burned down.

* * *

There’s a firm knock on the door. Finn groans. He really doesn’t want to move. The scorching air presses down onto his body like a boulder, makes him feel trapped and miserable. He grumbles as he gets onto his feet and walks to the door.

He grins when he sees Rey.

Then he realizes he likely isn’t looking his best now, drops of sweat rolling down his skin, wearing only a very creased shirt and blue-white polka dot pajama pants.

But she doesn’t look any tidier. She’s wearing an adorable straw hat and pale yellow gardening overalls with grass stains on her knees, and there’s sweat glistening on her forehead too. One brown lock hangs in front of her face, fallen out of her ponytail. Finn wants to put it behind her ear, or wrap it around his finger. But they are not even friends yet.

“Hey, Finn,” Rey smiles, holding up a small tin box. “I’m taking a break from weeding, and I thought I would give this to you.”

Finn takes the box curiously. There’s a picturesque and somewhat kitschy painting of a beautiful mountain range on the lid. He opens it, and finds cookies inside.

“Thank you!” Finn grins, surprised but absolutely delighted. “Wow, this is very sweet of you!”

“The cookies are very sweet too,” Rey quips, smiling even wider.

 _You’re very sweet too_ , Finn thinks, but he swallows the words down. Instead, he bites into a cookie: it’s dry and crunchy and very sweet, and he can taste caramel and… walnut? Pecan, maybe? “Really tasty,” Finn says after he swallows the first bite. There’s a hint of relief in Rey’s eyes – maybe she was worried that Finn would hate her cookies. Finn doesn’t think he would be able to hate anything related to Rey.

“In the orphanage the only dessert was this really tasteless sort of donut, but there was no filling or anything good in it. So I bake sometimes now, nothing too fancy, but it’s fun. Today I made too much, and Ben is sulking around and not eating, and a few days ago you looked…”

Finn stares at her, startled. Rey responds with a flustered look, her voice petering out. He’s so used to only his colleagues knowing how emotionally devastating he finds his job – and maybe Hux (though Finn tried to stifle his sobs into the pillow to make sure Hux won’t hear them), but Hux doesn’t care. How could he explain to Rey that even though nothing is better than saving someone's life, it hurts so much when the patient dies under his hands: the horrible pressure in his chest as he watches them take their last breath, sees the light die in their eyes? It’s impossible to understand if you have never experienced it – and even if you have, it’s impossible to understand  _why_  it had to happen. Why some people have to die suddenly in an accident even though they had their whole life ahead of them…

“Why is it so hot here? Don’t you have air conditioning?”

Finn is glad for the change of topic. “It’s broken.”

“I could take a look at it?” Rey offers. “I can fix it.”

Finn hesitates. Hux likely wouldn’t be happy if Finn did anything without Hux’s permission: the air conditioner, like the whole apartment, belongs to Hux. But Finn wants to accept Rey’s help, who is looking at him, waiting for him to say something. Fuck it. Hux is not home now, likely droning on about vector addition or shouting at unhappy teenagers in a sweltering classroom. He can’t stop Finn.

“Yeah, okay. Thank you. It’s on the balcony.”

He will face Hux’s possible wrath for Rey – he’s just a high school teacher, after all, what could he do? Well, he could kick Finn out. And then he would never see Rey again. His heart sinks into his stomach at the idea like a stone thrown into a lake.

Finn walks out onto the balcony after Rey. She’s squatting in front of the air conditioner, fingers moving carefully in its metallic-plastic innards. She looks up when she notices he joined her, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. She takes the straw hat off and gives it to him.

“Can you hold it while I work? Or put it on! Bet you would look even cuter in it!”

Rey blushes, but she doesn’t look away. The silence stretches on as Finn tries to think about something to say, but the giddy warmth bubbling up in his chest is making it hard for him to come up with something clever.

“Not as cute as you.”

Rey’s blush deepens, and her eyes twinkle, pleased. Finn smiles as he puts the hat on. He leans against the balcony railing, looking down at the street. From the eight floor the cars look like huge turtles of many colors crawling their way home or wherever else they are going, their human-made carapace shining in the sunshine. The sky above the city is pale blue, cloudless, not very interesting. The sun is hidden behind one of the buildings, not that that stops it from throwing its terrible heat around.

“You need a new compressor,” Rey says suddenly. “But be careful, because not all are small enough to fit into this model. I could buy you one tomorrow.”

“Thank you, that would be really awesome. I hate this heat so fucking much. But, um, I think you should discuss it with Hux too,” Finn adds quickly. “It’s his apartment, I’m just a tenant.”

Rey stands up, wiping her hands on her gardening overalls. “Okay, I will do that. I should go back to the weeds now. Wouldn’t want them to think I gave up trying to get rid of them.”

Finn takes her hat off his head, Rey reaches for it. He feels a small jolt when their hands brush for a moment.

“Thank you for the cookies. And the compressor. Is there anything I can do for you in return?”

Rey hesitates only for a moment. “You could watch a movie with me. Ben is too busy with that awful painting, and my parents don’t live in the city. But only if you want to! If you don’t like movies we don’t have to!”

“No, I like them! I mean, not every movie, of course, but I like many of them.”

Rey grins, bright like the sun, but, unlike the scorching sun, she’s very lovely.

* * *

Ben takes the paintbrush out of his mouth to say, his other hand on the door handle: “Your apartment is next door.”

“I know,” Hux says. He’s not wearing that ridiculous stern teacher costume now. “Is Rey home? I want to give her the money for the compressor.”

Oh. Okay. Rey did talk about something like that this morning, though Ben was only half listening, focusing most of his willpower on not throwing his phone against the wall, Snoke’s voice still echoing in his head. Frankly, even without the painting, he's usually quite uninterested in Rey’s chattering. They are supposed to be a family, but there’s a decade of age difference and they weren’t children together. Rey enjoys different things, she likes different movies, she has different hopes for the future, she has different taste in men, she has different ideas about art – how are they supposed to bond?

“She’s at the cinema. With your roommate. Did you like the cookies?”

“What cookies?”

Ben snorts. Apparently Finn – that’s the name of Rey’s new friend and potential boyfriend, right? – isn’t too fond of Hux. Suddenly Ben feels a little bit of pity, or at least sympathy for this weird guy with his awful students and a roommate he isn’t even close enough with to get at least one gift cookie.

“Do you want to come in?”

Hux wavers on the doorstep, not stepping into the apartment but neither turning away. Ben is ready to just slam the door and go back to his painting when Hux finally makes his mind up: he comes inside.

“What a mess you live in!” Hux looks around with disdain. Ben instantly regrets inviting him in, regrets his moment of weakness: there was no point feeling bad for this bastard. He’s probably not friends with Finn because he’s so terrible no one wants to be his friend.

“Can I look at your painting?”

“Sure,” Ben shrugs. He put away the painting of his father, making it face the wall, and threw out every sketch a few hours ago. There’s another half-finished picture on the easel, an easy, quick painting of a body lying face down, bleeding out into the snow. He likes the contrast of the white snow and the red blood – not particularly original, true, but good. It won’t be his best work, but at least he’s painting something. It’s preferable to staring at the sketches of his father, torn between wanting to cry and wanting to tell Snoke he’s done with him.

“Your style reminds me a lot of Kylo Ren,” Hux says. Ben bowls over. Hux is staring at the canvas, so he, fortunately, can’t see Ben gaping at him in shock. Ben snaps his mouth shut.

“You know about Kylo Ren? You like him?” He keeps any hint of smugness out of his voice.

“Well, I’m not an art connoisseur. But I saw some of his pictures at an exhibition last winter. I found the contrast of the red and black very powerful, and I liked that the bodies had these sort of colorless, desaturated colors. And that you couldn’t see the faces. It gave the impression that they were, I don’t know, these depersonalized, dehumanized figures? Usually when an artist paints a dead person, they’re trying to evoke pity, and so they focus on their expression. I found his different approach very interesting and refreshing. I don’t often call someone a genius, but I think he was something close.” Hux finally looks at Ben. His eyebrows draw together in suspicion. “Why are you grinning like that?”

“I’m Kylo Ren. I had no idea one of my fans lives next door. Do you want an autograph?”

Once the surprise disappears from Hux’s expression he looks like there’s something that tastes very unpleasant in his mouth.

“Well then. Give Rey the money. I have to go. Goodbye.”

Hux turns to leave. Ben grabs his arm roughly, desperately; his big fingers span Hux’s whole arm. The breath rushes out of Hux, and he stares at Ben with wide eyes. He's - quite handsome now, Ben thinks.

“You don’t have to leave,” Ben whispers, his mouth dry. He licks his lips. “I mean. You didn’t even give the money to me yet. And I think there’s some cookie left, if you want to try it? It’s good.”

Hux ends up staying. Ben puts the hairdryer, his palette, the mostly empty can of energy drink, Rey’s slippers and three of her many, many necklaces away quickly to make enough space on the sofa for Hux to sit down.

“I’m working on something now that’s very hard. My mentor, Snoke, says I should move out of my comfort zone so that I can become even better, but I don’t know if I can do  _this_.”

Hux nibbles on a cookie. “If he’s your mentor, he probably knows better, and you should listen to him. Is it the painting on the easel now? That looks like your usual stuff.”

“No,” Ben sighs, running a hand through his messy hair. “I have to paint my dad. Dying. His face has to be recognizable.”

Hux almost chokes on his cookie. “Your dad? Fuck. I have some issues with my dad, but I would never want to or dare to paint a picture of him dying. Is there really no other way to improve?”

“Right?” Ben exclaims. “That’s what I said too! But Snoke thinks that the more I don’t want it, the more I will improve. The struggle will make me better, or something like that.”

Hux hums noncommittally. Then he glances up at Ben. “You look ridiculous.” But he sounds fond instead mocking. He gestures near his own ear when Ben raises his eyebrows in confusion. Ah, the paintbrush. He must have put it behind his ear without realizing, a routine, automatic gesture. Ben shrugs, and Hux smiles, and is this the first time Ben has seen Hux smile? It’s very possible. It’s just a little smile, but it’s a good smile. If Ben were the kind of artist who paints people’s faces, he would, maybe, want to paint this smile.

Fortunately, Rey comes home before he could get too sappy. Even this ridiculous little thought makes him feel embarrassed. Rey closes the door and then fistbumps the air in joy before she notices the two pair of eyes on her and the smile slips off her face.

“Um,” she says.

“I was just waiting for you to come back. Here's the money for the compressor.” Hux jumps out of the sofa as if there's suddenly a fire kindled under his ass. “Thank you for fixing it, I really appreciate it.”

Hux gives her the money and then leaves with only an awkward wave, not looking at either of them – which is still better than the absolutely nothing he sometimes gives Ben as a goodbye.

Rey’s hairdo is familiar, Ben thinks as he watches her toe her flower-patterned flat shoes off: a complicated arrangement of braids and two buns. When Ben finally places it he can’t help but roll his eyes. It looks like their mother’s in the wedding videos.


	2. Chapter 2

Finn blows his nose into the tissue. It has a strong floral scent, which makes him smile a little despite everything. He rubs the tears out of his eyes with the other hand. Rey pats his elbow, a little awkwardly, like she isn’t certain how to touch him, only that she has to do something to comfort him.

“Why are you crying outside, Finn? Go inside, wouldn't that be better?”

Finn nods, stuffing the used tissue into the back pocket of his jeans (there’s blood on his knee, he realizes, how is there blood on it, he was wearing his paramedic uniform, not his jeans, did he not wash his hands thoroughly before changing?). “I was just, uh, trying to stop crying so that Hux won’t see it when I go in. Maybe he’s in his bedroom, and then I don’t have to meet him, but if not…”

Rey squeezes his arm once, quick but firm, before she lets go. Finn misses her touch, but of course it would be difficult to open the door with Rey still holding his arm. “Would Hux mock you? What a bastard!”

“I don’t think he would say anything.” Finn shrugs, then opens the door, ushering Rey inside. “But he would look at me with those eyes, like I’m sort of ridiculous, or I don’t know.”

“What happened?” Rey asks carefully, her hands clasped in front of her breasts. She’s wearing a yellow and green flower-patterned summer dress with a thin white belt. She looks lovely. That poor young man will never have the chance to notice how lovely someone is now.

Finn doesn’t have to tell her. She would leave immediately if Finn asked her to, but looking at her worried, upset face, and sensing how much she wishes she could help, he  _wants_  to tell her.

“One of our patients… he was alive, just barely, when we arrived, but he died while I was trying to get him into the van. He grabbed my face, very weakly, and there was so much blood on his hand.” Suddenly he feels a terrible shadow fall onto him, even though there’s no cloud climbing in front of the sun, the perfect blue of the summer sky isn’t marred by anything. “There’s no blood on my face anymore, right?”

“No.” The intense look on Rey’s face – she looks very sad – makes fresh tears spring into Finn’s eyes. “Finn, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do. Can I hug you, or would you not want that now?”

“Yes,” Finn nods. “Thank you.”

Finn rests his face against her shoulder, feeling the strap of her dress and her smooth warm skin against his cheek as he clings to her. She’s so alive in his arms, with strong lungs that work relentlessly to pull in and push out air and a great heart that day and night pumps red blood through her veins. She’s not dead, like that young man. Her hands hold him sure and steady. They don’t slip, lifeless, off his face, leaving only a handprint of blood on his skin. There’s no blood now.

 _Can you ever get used to this?_  Finn remembers asking Poe before taking a sip of the steaming coffee put into his hands earlier by Poe, feeling the bitter burning bite of the coffee on his tongue. Poe looked at him and clasped his shoulder. He was smiling weakly at Finn, and Finn could see that he was sad too, his often bright and charming eyes dulled and exhausted. And Poe simply said:  _No_. And then he added, fingers tightening on Finn’s shoulder:  _You’re a good man, Finn._

“I see how miserable it makes you, and I hate it. But it proves that you  _care_. Because if you could just shrug and forget about it instantly when someone dies, that would mean that their death didn’t matter to you.”

Finn leaves Rey’s embrace, though he takes only one little step back, still standing close to her. “When we save someone – and that happens a lot, too, it happens more often than when someone dies –, that’s the greatest. Knowing that they would have died, but they didn’t, because of us. There isn’t a better feeling in the world.”

Rey smiles at him, hazel eyes sparkling. “You’re so amazing, Finn.”

Finn smiles back, not sure what to say. Yes, he knows that what they are doing is amazing – could anything be more amazing than saving someone’s life? But Rey’s words still feel so good, make him feel warm all over.

Rey flops down onto the sofa, and Finn follows quickly. It’s a very ugly sofa, a dark grey monstrosity with fat metal legs. If Finn had a say, he would get rid of it in a heartbeat, but he isn’t allowed to change anything in the apartment. It’s not his, after all. Hux told him he can do whatever he wants in his own room (except listen to loud music, have a pet or a plant, light a candle, and many other things), but everything else is Hux’s domain. If it were Finn’s home, he would put some pictures onto the empty walls, and have colorful curtains instead of the plain white ones (maybe something floral-patterned, and he could ask Rey, she loves things with flowers), make the place a lot warmer and pleasant. It’s not expensive, it’s close to the hospital, he can sleep and shower and eat here, and now, thanks to Rey, the air conditioning is working again. It’s perfectly adequate. But it feels a lot more like a hotel than a home.

Suddenly he feels Rey’s hand on his, the touch pulling him out of his thoughts. “If you feel sad again because of your job, you can always talk with me. Even if it’s in the middle of the night and you have a nightmare, just knock on our door, and I will be there. I don’t care if Ben gets pissed because we woke him up, I can kick his ass.” She winks at him, playful. Then she turns very serious. “I just really want to help you, as your friend and girlfriend.”

Finn nods, feeling a smile bloom on his lips as his heart overflows with gratitude and happiness.

* * *

“Actually,” Ben starts, once Hux is sitting on the sofa – there’s a splatter of still wet white paint on the armrest, but Hux’s shirt is white as well, so he hopefully won’t notice it if it gets onto the fabric. “Rey lied when she told you that I asked you to come see more of my paintings. I did mention that you’re my fan, but nothing else. I think she just wanted to get rid of you to be alone with her new boyfriend.”

The look on Hux’s face is hilarious: surprise quickly chased away by bitter displeasure and some embarrassment as he realizes he got kicked out of his own home by those two under false pretenses. Ben suddenly feels a little bad, especially because Rey used  _him_  to get her way. “But I don’t mind that you’re here.”

Hux doesn’t seem completely mollified, though maybe his eyes do become a bit softer. Ben, shifting on the chair in front of the easel, adds: “I’m not fond of her new relationship, to be honest.”

“Why not? Finn seems nice, doesn’t he?”

“Exactly.” The painting on the easel is still the one with the snow. But he won't be able to focus on it while Hux is here. “My family won't shut up about how I should be more like Rey. Not only is she so smart and kind and has so much potential, she has an awesome boyfriend now too! Where is your boyfriend, Ben? Who would want to date you when you paint these awful things?”

“They’re not awful. I think you’re a great artist, and I like your paintings.”

Hux’s words feel surprisingly, almost embarrassingly good. Ben fights the silly grin threatening to form on his lips. “Thank you.”

Hux nods, a little awkwardly, like he wasn’t expecting Ben to thank him. If Ben isn't seeing things, he's even blushing a bit. “What about the painting of your dad? Are you working on it?”

Ben grimaces.

His father isn’t perfect: he doesn’t understand Kylo Ren’s art, and he can be pretty embarrassing and ridiculous. But, though they don’t spend a lot of time together nowadays, Ben remembers his childhood fondly: learning how to climb the trees near the summer house, flying on the plane with his dad, sneaking out of their tent while his mother was sleeping and trying to find mushrooms, accidentally almost falling into a ravine…

“What would you do?” Ben asks, curious. “If you had to paint  _your_  dad like this?”

Hux visibly startles. “I told you before: I wouldn’t do it. I don’t know what kind of relationship you have with your dad, but my father is like, well, he’s on a pedestal, he’s been since I can remember. I should be like him, I should be like he expects me to be. He is a teacher too: he’s the reason I have this shitty job. To paint him like that would be basically sacrilege.”

Ben snorts, incredulous.

“That’s how children feel, but you’re a grown man! My first teacher was my uncle, and at first I always listened to him. Then I realized that I could become better if I stopped painting only what Uncle Luke told me to. Sure, my family hates Kylo Ren’s art, but at least I paint what I want. You have to learn how to say no. If you hate your job, quit. Fuck what your dad thinks.”

The only word Ben can think of to describe the expression on Hux’s face is ‘uncomfortable’. It makes him look strangely vulnerable, not at all like the guy with the sneers and annoyed glares Ben sometimes runs into in the elevator. Hux looks away, and his eyes are quickly caught by the six sketches on the little table. They’re awfully crumpled – Ben fished them out of the trash this morning –, but Han’s face is still on them.

“You can look at them,” Ben sighs.

Hux takes the papers into his hands, one after the other. “I sort of thought you’re bad at drawing faces, that’s why you never have them in your paintings, but these are very good. I like this one the best. He looks… sad, here?”

Ben glances at the paper Hux shows him. It is indeed the one where Han looks sad. “Isn’t that too abstract? The other ones, where he looks surprised and afraid, don’t they make more sense?”

“I think feeling sad would make sense when you’re dying. Though the other versions have potential too, I think.”

Rey was so mad that morning after she got back from running, ranting at Ben while he was stuffing his mouth with cereal. She talked about how Han doesn’t deserve this, and what will he think when he sees it, it will hurt him so much, and Leia and Luke too, and then Ben stopped listening. Rey noticed and left him, but not before throwing one last glare at Ben with enough intensity that it almost felt like it was an actual physical object that smacked him in the face.

Others either hate his paintings, or their praises sound like they want to avoid offending him or they’re trying to suck up, hoping Ben might help them get their own art into an exhibition. Even Snoke is always somehow dissatisfied:  _Yes, it’s quite good, but it would be even better if you changed this…_   

But, strange as it is, Hux seems to truly like Kylo Ren’s art.

Suddenly feeling inspired, Ben moves his chair closer to Hux, and together they start to look through the sketches again.

* * *

 **VICTORY** , flash the big golden letters onto the screen. Rey whoops in joy, letting the controller clatter onto the floor as she turns to Finn to beam at him. Finn is beaming back at her.

“You were amazing, Finn! This was one of the hardest levels! I can never finish it with Ben. He’s so impatient – always shooting at everything mindlessly and not hitting any of the enemy planes, and then he blames me for not flying like I should!”

Finn gapes at her. “He blames  _you_? You were perfect! You could probably be a real pilot, that’s how good you were!”

Rey blushes happily. “My family has a plane, though it’s old and not very fancy, but it’s still awesome, Han and sometimes Luke taught me how to fly it!”

“That sounds cool!” Finn laughs, beaming even brighter.

“I miss it sometimes, but it’s in the summer house. I wouldn’t be able to fly around in the city with all the huge houses everywhere. It’s the same with the garden. I wish we had a bigger one here, in our summer house there’s a huge garden, with not just flowers, but some vegetables and fruits too. We can make salads with nothing but what we find in the garden! Sure, the grocery store has everything I need, but it’s more special when you grow it yourself, you know?”

Rey pulls the plate of homemade desserts closer to them – she didn't want them to be in the way while they were playing. Rey baked cupcakes today, which are a little harder than cookies, but they came out quite well, she thinks. The first time she tried to make them they got badly burned, and she threw them out. Rey, who had to suffer through more bad food than anyone deserves in the orphanage, tries to avoid anything that isn’t delicious, now that she has the luxury to choose what to eat.

Finn chooses an apricot cupcake. There's not just icing, but also a little piece of actual fruit on top of it, surrounded by brown chocolate sprinkles. “This is so good,” Finn says after he takes the first bite. “You could have your own bakery!”

“I don’t know about that,” Rey laughs with some self-depreciation, though the praise does warm her cheeks. She’s good at many things, but baking really is just a hobby, nothing more. “But thank you.”

“Thank  _you_  for this,” Finn grins, tearing another bite out of the cupcake.

“You could visit our summer house!” Then she slaps her hand over her mouth, feeling the heavy weight of embarrassment and something close to fear settle into her stomach. “I know we just started dating, is that too soon? Was that a weird thing to say?”

Finn, scrabbling to reassure her, grabs her hand with the hand not holding the cupcake. “I would be happy to go!”

The worry seeps out of Rey. “The sea is near, and you can swim in it, and we even have a yacht! Oh, that’s a funny story, do you want to hear it?” Finn nods as he takes another bite, and Rey continues quickly, her enthusiasm rising. She’s so giddy there’s someone she can tell silly anecdotes to: it really is so great to have a friend, especially one who is also a boyfriend! “So one day Han came home and told us we have a yacht. I remember Leia had her arms crossed in front of her chest like she always does when she suspects that someone – usually Han or Ben, but I’m not always perfect either – is up to no good. Then we went to the sea and there was the yacht, and inside there was this  _awful_  smell, it made us gag, I’m not kidding! It was three huge octopuses, dead and rotting.”

Finn’s mouth falls open in shock, then he grimaces. Rey grins, enjoying the audience. When she tries to talk with Ben, he listens only half the time, and that’s very generous. But if feels like Finn cares about  _everything_  she says.

“Han bought the yacht from some really shady guys, but it’s still a nice yacht – after we got rid of the octopuses’ corpses, of course. It’s a bit battered, and I had to fix a few parts of the engine, but now it works perfectly. Come, and we could sail on it. We will buy a straw hat for you, or you can get mine since it was so cute on you and I will get another, and we will have some iced drinks and I will bake desserts, and we can enjoy the sun and the sea on the yacht!”

“That would be lovely,” Finn says, and he sounds honest, like he’s sincerely looking forward to it. Rey sighs in relief. So she wasn’t too intense, she didn’t scare him away with wanting too much too soon. That’s good.

She thinks her family would like Finn a lot. Leia would be charmed quickly. Han too, though he would pretend to be unimpressed at first. She isn’t sure what Luke would think, but surely he would like Finn as well. Ben – well, she doesn’t care what he thinks about Finn. He has such weird taste; it would be alarming if Ben liked her boyfriend too much.

She’s still mad about Ben’s new painting. Han is so amazing, and he loves them both so much, and this is how Ben repays him for it? She sometimes thinks he takes family for granted – Rey knows what it is like to be alone and abandoned, to have no parents, but Ben doesn’t. What will poor Han think when he sees that painting?

But she doesn't want to think about Ben when Finn is right there. She glances at him. It’s hard to look at Finn’s face without wanting to kiss him, but Rey realizes that she can kiss him now. So that’s what she does, leaning close enough to feel his breath fall onto her lips, then closing that last little distance. Kissing him is still unfamiliar but so good; she doesn’t think she will ever get enough of it. His tongue slips into her mouth, and, oh, her eyes fall closed at the feeling. Maybe she put a bit too much sugar into the cupcake, she thinks, as her tongue slides against his. But a bit too sweet kisses are still very, very good kisses. 

When the kiss ends, she has her arms around his shoulders, and one of his hands, gentle and steady, holds her waist. He’s playing with her necklace with his other hand. It’s a cheerful collection of green beads with a flower, the pink petals surrounding a golden center. She loves all her necklaces – there were none in the orphanage, so every one of them now is precious –, but this is one of her favorites. Finn seems to love it too.

Finn’s thumb caresses the petals. “You're really so great. You could be so many things – like a pilot or a gardener, or a baker or a mechanic! It’s too hard to choose, Rey, isn’t it?”

“I know you think it must be stupid – you already have such an important and amazing job, and I don’t know what I want to be!”

“Not at all!” Finn shakes his head, his hand moving up to grab Rey’s chin gently so she has to look at him. “Don’t say something like that! If you are not sure, it’s totally okay to wait a bit to figure it out! Don’t be like Hux – he hates his job, and it makes both him and his students miserable, it’s awful for everyone involved. It’s better to find the perfect job a little later, instead of doing something that isn’t for you.”

That’s true. Rey knows that, but hearing it from Finn makes it even more true. She nods, then kisses him again. She wants to kiss him as much as she can before Ben gets home.

* * *

The news that his tenant is dating the younger Organa-Solo is not shocking. Hux remembers the lovesick expression on Finn’s face, and he also couldn’t believe for a moment that Rey went through the trouble of buying a new compressor for the air conditioner because he wanted to help Hux. And there were the cookies too, of course.

The thing that bothers Hux – other than Rey lying to get rid of him, which would be impressive if even thinking about it didn’t make him fume – is, well.

Hux  _hates_  his job and he knows how little anything he does matter, and Finn, more than a decade younger, though his own job is hard – harder than Hux’s, in some way – does something he can be proud of. Something that has a point.

Once, when Hux got home, gritting his teeth just remembering how awful those damn students had been that day, he found an edible gift basket on the table in the kitchen. Finn was nowhere to be seen, so Hux quickly looked at the little piece of paper next to the basket:

_Thank you for saving my life and the life of my children. Without you, we would be dead. Without you, the world would be a worse place._

Of course, in the grand scheme of things, when thousands or even millions can die during a natural disaster or a big war, whether someone dies or lives in a traffic accident doesn’t change the world much. But even a few people’s life saved is a bigger difference than anything Hux can claim for himself. He teaches a bunch of children who don’t listen to a word he says, and probably ritually burn their math exercise books at the end of every year, maybe throwing a photo of their teacher onto the flames as well. Compared to that, Finn is – certainly the victor here.

Ben (if Rey is not ‘Organa-Solo’, why should Ben, who Hux is starting to actually like, unlike Rey, be called by his family name?) struggles with his work too. Maybe they could commiserate.

And that’s how Hux ends up once again in the next-door apartment, but this time he doesn’t have an excuse. When Ben stared at him, clearly confused, Hux couldn’t come up with anything better than  _I wanted to see you._  It was quite embarrassing, but at least Ben didn’t say anything mocking – he didn’t say anything, just nodded, and let Hux in.

“Do you really think I should quit?” Hux leans against the kitchen counter. There’s a pair of dark grey dumbbells next to a small pile of unwashed plates. Hux makes a face at them. “My father would say that would mean I failed. That I wasn’t good enough.”

Ben pours him a glass of beer. “And I say: fuck what he thinks. You teach math, right? There are other jobs that need someone who is very good at math. It’s not a failure, it just means that teaching isn’t for you. It’s really hard. When Rey was younger, I sometimes tried to tutor her, help with the homework, but she always said I’m bad at it, that I’m awful at explaining and that I don’t have enough patience.”

Hux takes a careful sip of the cool beer. It could taste worse, though it could also be better. “Maybe I will quit.” It’s utterly ridiculous, but he has never thought he could actually do it before talking with Ben – daydreaming about it, yes, but to  _really_  stop being a teacher, stop being what his father wants him to be?

“I think you should. And when you do, come to me, and we will celebrate. I will tell Rey to go somewhere. It will be just the two of us.”

Hux waits for Ben to say he is just joking, but Ben just stares at him with his serious, unsettlingly intense eyes. Hux swallows.

“I think the students will celebrate too if I quit.” Hux laughs. Ben continues staring, silent. Hux looks away, suddenly feeling like an idiot.

“There’s so much clutter here.” But Hux can hear that he doesn’t sound as mocking as he could – as he would have not that long ago.

Ben seems to sense it too, because he just shrugs with a grin. “I’m a messy person, and Rey had very little in the orphanage, so now she doesn’t really throw away anything.”

“You know, you’re not as unpleasant as I thought you are.”

It comes out clumsy, but Hux means it as a compliment. Finding out that Ben is actually Kylo Ren impressed him: his art made it clear that he's someone with talent who is willing to work hard, and Hux admires that. He wishes he had a job where his own talent and work ethic would be enough to make him feel satisfied.

Ben snorts, amused. “I’m not sure why you disliked me so much, but you were always glaring and scowling at me, which sure didn’t make me want to be pleasant to you.”

Hux puts the glass down onto the counter – he doesn’t ask for a coaster; he doesn’t think there’s one in this apartment. “Once, I had to spend a whole afternoon getting rid of the paint on the floor you tracked all over in front of  _my_  door. You stand on the balcony and shout into your phone so loudly the whole city can hear you. Your motorbike is louder than a fucking earthquake. You mock me for wearing neat clothes that may be a bit warm, while you’re wearing combat boots in the same sweltering heat, and your shirts have paint on them more often than not. And I bet you don’t even take your damn combat boots off when you get home, even when it rains you just track mud all over your home like some barbarian–“

“Hey,” Ben raises an arm, cutting Hux off. “What I  _might_  do doesn’t count. I could bet that you strangle kittens in your bathroom.”

The corners of Hux’s lips twitch up. “Fine.” He puts his elbows onto the counter, and he almost knocks the glass down. Ben’s arm shoots out, pushing the glass back. Then he doesn’t step back, and his arm remains there, his fingers around the glass, effectively caging Hux in between the counter and his body. His weirdly handsome face is suddenly so close, his eyes so eager; Hux can feel the air become thicker around them. He puts his arms around Ben’s neck.

“Shouldn’t we go watch a movie first? Have you not learned anything from your little sister?”

“I’m not like Rey,” Ben spits out, with a surprising amount of darkness in his voice.

Hux remembers what Ben said the last time they talked: how their parents want him to be more like Rey. Hux isn’t sure when she was adopted, but he can imagine a younger Ben hunching over his violent sketches in his room, sulking while his parents laugh with the new little girl, thinking:  _My parents wanted a better child._

“I was just joking.” Ben stares at him. Hux opens his mouth to say something more, but Ben seems to interpret it as an invitation to stick his tongue between his lips. He kisses – hilariously, Hux thinks – like a desperate teenager, no finesse and so damn messy. Hux wants to roll his eyes, but he sort of loves the demanding, ridiculous way Ben kisses. The hard edge of the counter digs into Hux’s back. He would prefer if he didn’t taste like mediocre beer, but Ben doesn’t seem to be put off by that at all.

Hux wonders whether Finn is in his apartment now. Is Rey with him? Then he thinks, kissing Ben again: there’s no hurry going back. He can stay here a bit longer.


End file.
